Friend, sometimes I just need to write
Without worrying if it’s right or not.
Would you believe there’s an app for that?
Well there’s a place for that anyway.
Over at Lisa-Jo’s.
So I will join others and write unabashedly
for five minutes time.
On one word alone:
It was one of those days. Where I have to admit I didn’t seize much of anything. The day seized me.
As the warm washcloth wipes some of the evidence away, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. And look up to hear what it has to say. For mirrors always have a story to tell.
It seems worry becomes harder to conceal with each blown candle. I see lines beginning to permeate and wonder when this new one reared itself.
Strange how even our faces show our encumbrances. The pressures we pile high.
I stand there in the frozen frame, studying my natural state. When suddenly it comes to me. The scandalous truth.
Oh my goodness gracious, look at me. Plain, flawed, beautiful me. Do I ever have a story to tell.
Friends, the wretch that’s been sung about for ages — ’tis I.
The sins He bore while hanging broken on a tree — they were mine.
And when Jesus said “Forgive them, Father…” — he meant me.
One day, I heard Him say “Come to Me. Let Me in. I saved you once and would do it again in a heartbeat.” — I accepted.
And I’ve been in a scandalous love affair every day since.
I’m still discovering how much He truly loves me. Plain, flawed, beautiful me. I still can’t describe grace in 10 words or less, but know it’s what brings the glow upon my face.
I glance into the truth-teller once again. Aching to see it. And smile wide with pride. My lines conform to the task, accentuating the emotion. A chuckle escapes as I say it right there out loud.
Oh yes, Jesus. Did you ever give me a story to tell. Count me in. I’ll share the scandalous truth.
How about you? What story did Jesus give you? I’d love to hear.
Thanks for sharing your time with me.
Are we friends on Facebook? I’d love to be…